Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Oh…we’re not…there isn’t really a personal relationship to speak of. Just that one strange double date, and then we ran into each other again at the gym yesterday.”
She looked at me skeptically. “Well, you must have made a good impression on him, then. He doesn’t usually farm me out.”
My brows drew together. “Farm you out?”
“I left industry recruiting three years ago. I usually just recruit for Parker Industries now.”
“Oh! I just assumed…Chase said he knew a bulldog recruiter…I assumed you were also a corporate recruiter, not one exclusively for his corporation.”
“That’s what I used to do. But I’m glad he put us together. I have a lot of contacts in the women’s product industry from Parker Industries. I’ll put out some feelers to see who might be hiring. I actually know someone who might be in the market for a product brand manager. It’s a lower-level position than what you’re leaving, but it’s soup-to-nuts advertising and marketing for a few products, so you’d get to do a full rebranding campaign. Although, they’re looking for someone to start as soon as possible. Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“My last day at Fresh Look is next Friday, and I don’t have anything lined up yet. I’m not the type of person who likes to sit around, so I’d definitely consider something like that.”
“Great. Give me a day or two, and I’ll see what I can do.”
***
Tonight was my third date with Bryant—fourth if you counted the afternoon at the gym. He’d invited me over to his place for a home-cooked meal and a movie, and I knew that given the privacy, things were likely to progress physically between us. We’d shared some heated kisses, but that had pretty much been it so far.
In the shower, I thought about whether I was ready to have sex with him. By no means was I a prude, nor was there a certain number of hoops a guy had to jump through in order to get me into his bed. I’d had first dates that ended in sex, and I’d had four-month relationships that never progressed there. For me, it was what felt right. As I shaved my legs, I tried to wrap my arms around exactly how I felt about Bryant. He was a nice guy—thirty-one with no kids or ex baggage—handsome, held a solid job as a mutual fund manager, and wasn’t afraid to show affection. Yet, as I ran the razor up my thigh, I found myself thinking of someone else entirely. Chase Parker.
I tried to tell myself it was because of the stories Samantha had shared today at lunch. His wax invention—I was shaving my legs. That’s why I was thinking about him in the shower instead of my date. When I washed my torso, I thought of the small ring in his nipple. I might have let my hand linger a little too long as I sudsed up my breasts. They need to be washed, after all. And I was only thinking of Chase as I closed my eyes because I was curious about what his handsome face might look like if I took that ring between my teeth and tugged. I stopped my hand from lingering anywhere else, but it wasn’t an easy feat. I had Chase on the brain when I should have had someone else.
On the way over to Bryant’s, I stopped and picked up a bottle of wine I knew he liked. When he opened the door, he was sweet. “You look amazing,” he said, then gave me a nice, welcome kiss.
A buzzer was going off in the kitchen, so he told me to follow him. I checked the apartment out as I walked through. It was clean and modern—even had some artwork on the walls. Most of my previous boyfriends thought decorating meant hanging a sixty-inch TV. Progress.
Bryant lifted the top off a pot and put it aside. Opening a box of rigatoni pasta, he smiled. “I make two dishes: rigatoni alla vodka and chicken parmigiana. You had pasta primavera the first time we went out, so I thought rigatoni was the safest bet.”
It was thoughtful that he remembered what I ate. “Can I do anything to help?”
“You can grab two glasses from there.” His chin pointed to a cabinet on his left as he poured the pasta into the boiling water. “There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge I already opened. I’ll get the pasta going. You can pour.”
He watched me while I filled each glass. “What?”
“I want to say something, but it might come off as creepy.”
“Well, now you have to say it.” I sipped my wine and extended his glass.
“All right. I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was in the shower today—how gorgeous you are.”
That should have made me feel good, but instead, it made me feel like complete shit. While the great guy I was dating had been thinking about me…I’d been feeling myself up to thoughts of another man.